Randomness

Thought I would share some of the random things I post on my Facebook page here on the blog. First off, I saw this really cool storefront in University Heights (San Diego, CA area) the other day and snapped a pic as I was sitting at the light.

I'm sure I've mentioned it, but for our new friends: Dragonfly has been my totem and unofficial second name since I first signed up for an AOL account with a free CD and a 28.8K modem in 1998. I am even called "Dragonfly" by some (which means many people give me dragonfly things as gifts so I have them on everything from coasters to jewelry to wind chimes). This kind of connection with a skeeter-eating bug makes you notice anything with the word plastered above the door. I finally remembered to search Google to find out what they sell, and it turns out they're just a hair salon. Pffftt! Disappointed! Hair salons are a dime a dozen and I don't think I've had my hair cut professionally for over a year so I really don't have much use for them. I like the colors and clip art logo, but I was hoping they sold something awesome like vintage items or metaphysical doodads. Oh well.

I tried to "check in" on Facebook from my iPhone the other day at home and had a nice little surprise - apparently Facebook has found my mostly-non-existant Reiki practice (Share The Way) and added it to their lists as a local business! I can't even imagine what database they would've retrieved that info from as the domain name is the only thing I've ever registered and I don't advertise at all. Yet there it was...

Now I just have to find out how I got there so I can be sure Scarlet Quill is also listed. Scarlet Quill is the website I'm building so I can sell my proofreading and editing services (scarletquill.com). And since I dog/house sit as well, don't think I'm not totally going to contact whomever owns Earth's Paw Mobile Pet Grooming and find out if they'll exchange referrals with me. I think I'm getting the hang of this networking thing. What a way to find local services. LOL

Last, I found out what the face of EVIL looks like. It's THIS:

I really do eat healthy most of the time, but I'm no saint when it comes to sweets. These things pry open your mouth, force themselves down your throat, laugh at the digestive acids in your stomach, then tear through your guts. And I LOVE THEM.

I Am Grateful For Sunsets

For every afternoon in summer when I think surely I will die of heatstroke due to my western-facing windows and a condo without central air conditioning, I get the MOST AWESOME SUNSETS EVER in winter, and the ability to keep the drapes open for the entire thing, while the last rays warm my bedroom for the evening ahead.

(This pic was actually taken on my birthday, Dec 30, 2010, at Oceanside beach, but you get the idea. I am often too busy watching the sunset to take pics of each one!)

TSA Now Stands for Transient Sexual Assault?

Alternative title for this post: Scan This TSA :P

I'm so pissed now I don't even remember where this started. This is why I don't normally watch the news - it makes me mad, or sad, or generally puts me in a negative mood. I prefer to be happy and I'm pretty good at staying that way, but I also don't want to be blissfully ignorant as that is just as bad as being overly reactive. Things that are big news tend to make it onto my radar anyway, and this is no exception. I may be a little late to the party, but I definitely have something to contribute.

Whatever I was reading earlier, it gave a link to the blog containing the viral video uploaded by John Tyner in San Diego regarding his encounter with TSA recently. He "opted out" of being scanned in one of the new full-body scanners installed by airport security in the name of "fighting terrorism" (more like our government exercising terrorism on the public if you ask me), then stood up for his rights as an American citizen and refused to be groped in an alternative pat down by TSA personnel (John Tyner may be more well-known as the "Don't Touch My Junk" guy). Now Mr. Tyner may be facing a $10,000 fine even though he PEACEFULLY LEFT THE AIRPORT as he was told to do - simply because he would not "complete" the security check.

GOOD FOR HIM refusing to submit to the absolutely ridiculous new rules they've installed under the guise of safety. I admire a guy that is willing to give up a flight and vacation because he is not going to give up his rights to privacy and will not stand for being sexually assaulted in public at the airport just because "everyone else is doing it." I hope if they actually sue him, he sues them back and wins millions of dollars. He deserves it.

I already wrote quite a long missive in response to a comment from a friend on my Facebook page, so mostly I'm going to copy that here. I posted an article on my Facebook page about abolishing the TSA and basically my friend was asking why people are so uptight about the new security. He thought it was a good idea that we had better scanners. "What are they afraid of?" he asks. Here is my response:


What people are afraid of is losing the last of their shredded rights in this country. Our constitution is already looking like a cat took its claws to it. Every day we look more like a gilded Nazi concentration camp. At what level do they have to violate you before you say enough?

The porno factor of the scanners isn't the bigger issue (at least not for me). If you read about backscatter ionizing radiation, you'll find that being exposed once or twice might not cause much harm, but run yourself through those things once a day, as some business travelers do, or even a couple times a week, and you significantly up your chance of cancer and other DNA-malfunction type diseases. How convenient for the medical and pharmaceutical industries. (Also makes me wonder how the TSA agents that have to stand next to them all day will fare.) From Wikipedia on ionizing radiation: "It has many practical uses in medicine, research, construction, and other areas, but presents a health hazard if used improperly. Exposure to radiation causes damage to living tissue, and high doses can result in mutation, radiation sickness, cancer,[2], and death." The scanners do not use high doses, but depending how often you travel, you will get multiple doses and the radiation is cumulative. Radiation half-life is a crazy high number. The stuff lasts forever, which is why it accumulates instead of dissipating. Our bodies never heal from it because we don't live that long. That's why Chernobyl is still dangerous after how many years?

Add to it that the CEO (Michael Chertoff) [of Rapiscan - do you suppose they meant to spell it so it could sound like Rape-a-scan?] the company selling most of these machines used to be head of Homeland Security under Bush. Hmmm. What's the best way to get rich? Get into the gov, make a big scare, then retire to a nice little company that solves the problem of the scare. What do you think his bonus is going to look like next year? I'd say he'll profit quite a bit. [Does Halliburton ring any bells?]

Read a few more links and find out that the head of Israel's Tel Aviv airport security (Rafi Sela) thinks these scanners are ridiculous and that guy's got 30 years of successful security under his belt in an airport so tight Tupperware is jealous. In a country with REASON to be paranoid! And he's not using scanners. In fact, he boasts that he knows a way to get enough explosives through a scanner without detection that he could take down any 747. I think I'm gonna believe him and his 30 years of experience. So what's the REAL incentive for these scanners? I'd have to say it's pure profit for a bunch of governmental cronies. Same shit, different day. Just cuz the Bush administration doesn't occupy the White House en masse, doesn't mean friends aren't still wandering the halls and feeding the lobbyists.

Now suppose you opt out and choose to have a cheap thrill with a TSA agent instead. Why is it less illegal for them to grope you than if you chose to feel up a hot chick in Starbucks without her consent? You'd go to jail. Not TSA. Just because TSA is "authorized" (authorized BY WHO?? Not ME!!) doesn't make this right or ok. I don't authorize them to touch me anywhere, nor do I authorize my government to make that decision for me. I've put up with all the crap about taking off shoes and scanning laptops, but this is crossing the line - for a lot of people. That is not what America is about. Nor would I EVER say it's ok to teach your child: "Well it's not ok for anyone to touch you in private places... *except TSA.*" WTF is that about? NO. TSA may not touch me or my children (even tho she's already an adult) anywhere I think is inappropriate. EVER. Even police officers have to have a GOOD reason to pat you down that way, and certainly they must have reasonable cause to strip search you (which is basically what the scanner does). TSA apparently needs no reason at all. I will not ever think that's okay, and especially not under the farce of airport security.

Upon further reflection I recognize that perhaps initiating these measures plants the seed in American minds that none of us can trust each other. We all look at each other suspiciously at the gate (not to mention the subway, the sidewalk, local restaurants... I mean seriously!). We're all on alert in the plane for anything out of order. TSA is supposedly just doing their job when they give the extended pat down, grabbing groins and squeezing for boob bombs. Who's to say perverts won't seek out this particular job now just so they can legally grope people? Do you trust that all TSA personnel can be completely benign even with the hottest chick or guy that comes through their line? Yeah, right. You think TSA reps don't talk about the best/worst people they had to check that day? Please. Even if they're not perverts, they are HUMAN. And a background check might not even reveal if they ARE perverts if they've kept to themselves... until now. There also seems to be no distinction of female officers patting down females and males for the males. And which would be more uncomfortable anyway? (Just one more reason TSA has no business touching anyone like they've been instructed to.) It's not like prerequisites to work for TSA include summa cum laude college degrees. Most of the TSA employees I've encountered could just as easily be asking me if I want fries with that. Creating mistrust among the citizens makes us vulnerable, right? United we stand, divided we fall? The higher ups in government DO tend to have those smarty pants degrees. They've read the history books on how we won the Revolution, and how the North won the Civil War. They know strategy. They know what went wrong for the losing sides in the past and they're up on the technology of today. If the government wanted to create a situation to control everyone, making us mistrust each other is a good way to start. People who love power will do anything to have it and protect it. I can't think of a bigger body of people that love power than the American government.

And to that end, these scanners supposedly do not have the ability to save or transmit images, however, this article states that they absolutely can do both and shows images to prove it. So NOW what do you think the real agenda is behind all this? We already have microchips in our driver's licenses and passports (RFIDs) that can track us no matter where we are as long as we have our ID (and who travels anywhere without their drivers license?). The TSA also states on their site "As we rapidly deploy technology as it exists today, we are also exploring enhancements to it, such as Automated Target Recognition (ATR), or auto-detection software." Read: facial recognition software. Is the gov just gathering more data on every citizen it can until they have a giant database to track our every move? For what purpose? I don't think I want Big Brother knowing every detail of my day. Is this starting to look seriously like the movie Minority Report to anyone else? One can't speculate too long or you'll really have trouble sleeping.

You know what bothers me most? WE, THE TAXPAYERS, PAID FOR THIS BULLSHIT.  Direct quote from TSA's site:

"In March 2010, TSA began deploying 450 advanced imaging technology units, which were purchased with American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA) funds."

The ARRA (according to its own site) has three immediate goals:

• Create new jobs and save existing ones
• Spur economic activity and invest in long-term growth
• Foster unprecedented levels of accountability and transparency in government spending

I don't see how this new security silliness fills any of those three main goals. And nowhere on the Recovery.gov site that is supposedly tracking the allocation of funds distributed under the ARRA does it say, "Legalize the sexual assault of millions of Americans (including children) trying to go about their daily business."

Keep in mind, these scanners and policies are mostly just at airports right now, but this is a transportation issue... eventually they plan to have these security rules implemented even in train stations, bus stations, large office buildings... everywhere.

And this is what's kept me from sleeping tonight... spending time educating myself about what's really going on, trying to see behind the curtain, as I wish ALL people would educate themselves and form their OWN opinion instead of just watching the news and jumping off a cliff after the big, stupid lemming that is Glenn Beck. (And I apologize to any lemmings I just offended.) I'm not fond of American journalism (with a few exceptions) because most of it is bent to say what our government would like us to hear. They don't necessarily lie (ok, some have made it a habit), but they do omit a lot of facts that might sway opinion unfavorably. You really have to read around to get the whole story (or at least a respectable bit of it). I recommend reading what the American Media Circus is saying and then ALSO reading media from Canada, BBC, or somewhere outside our own country that has a more objective perspective.

And in case that wasn't enough to keep you up too, try this video on for size:

C'mon People - Wake Up Already!

I was reading this article from a post on Facebook today:

Co-Founder of Veterans Group Not Surpised by Army Vet’s Rampage

I get the saying that "in order to retain peace, you must be prepared for war." But no one wins in war. NO ONE. Governments perpetuate the need for violence to serve their own purposes under the guise of serving the people. But how is it serving the people when veterans are treated like expendable property, asked to commit crimes against humanity, then left to deal with the demons created by the acts they are forced to perform? And yet, if we laid down arms, it doesn't mean Global Peace because we live in a bi-polar world where in order to define "good" we must have "bad." And each individual thinks the only "good" way to live is our own way, which means anything other than that individual's way (or group's way) is "bad." (How narcissistic.) The only solution to the problem is for all humans to transcend history and live only in the Now - acceptance and tolerance of all ways of life (live and let live, what a concept) - but how do you get 7 billion people to wake up at once? Until they do, you have situations like this. It's just a microcosm of the macrocosm.

Tales From The Kitchen & Anza Observatory

Funny how one thing always leads to another and suddenly you're planning an adventure and wondering how you ended up here at 4am (or how you're even still awake).

Tonight I tried to bake for the holidays. I had a plan; I was going to light a nice fire in the fireplace, don my festive, red "Naughty or Nice?" apron (I think I've worn it twice in the decade I've owned it), play Christmas music while drinking hot chocolate & Kahlua, and bake at least three kinds of cookies if it killed me. Sounds like a real Norman Rockwell evening, doesn't it? Well that's what I was going for. Those Hollywood moments don't create themselves ya know.

Apparently the cookies (or the Universe) saw it as a challenge. How many monkey wrenches does it take to screw up a Rockwell-inspired evening?

7:00pm. I light the fire, press Play for the Rat Pack, don said apron, make hot chocolate, and proceed to pull ingredients from cupboards. Hey wait... where did all my butter go? I swear there were three sticks in here!

Wrench 1 from Universe: No butter.
Counterfire: Close glass doors on fireplace, press Pause on Rat Pack, remove apron, don coat, head to store for butter.

Forty minutes later I have TWO POUNDS of butter (heh, let's see the Universe get past that one!) and a can of whipped cream for the hot chocolate (extra points!). I hang up the coat, poke the fire back to life, press Play on the Rat Pack, re-engage the apron, re-heat my hot chocolate (add whipped cream! woo!) and proceed to dump ingredients into a bowl.

Oh crap... that's ALL the brown sugar I have left? At least it's enough for this batch but... ::rummaging through pantry:: Darnit, I guess that WAS the backup. Hmmm.

Wrench 2 from Universe: No brown sugar.
Counterfire: I'll just make the things that don't require it tonight.

I continue making chocolate chip cookies. The fire is really going now (I can hear it in the other room even if I can't see it), the oven is hot, the chinchillas are all staring at me from the breakfast nook like I've been abducted by aliens and replaced by a domesticated replica, which is fine with them as long as the replica intends to give them treats. I taste the cookie dough because God knows a quarter of it will never make it into the oven the way I do it, and...

WTF? It tastes weird. Not horrible, but weird. Maybe it's just my imagination? Nope, definitely tastes odd. I go over the ingredients and decide it's either the gluten-free flour I bought at the organic grocery store or the eggs which I now see are expired because they're organic eggs and since I don't eat eggs unless they're in something they rarely get used fast enough. Arg. Okay, well, I'll take my chances that it's the flour, not salmonella, and maybe the icky taste will cook out.

Wrench 3 from Universe: Bad batter.
Counterfire: I'm baking it anyway so sod off.

While the first batch is in the oven, I decide to start mixing the Sand Tarts (read: sugar cookies with almond extract) that my grandmother makes. The dough has to sit in the frig overnight, and does not require brown sugar, so this is probably a good thing to embark on next. I start blending the butter and sugar in another bowl.

15 minutes later: the bell rings but the icky taste has not cooked out. Grrr.

Maybe I can donate these somewhere - like the post office. Make a nice gesture AND get rid of icky cookies AND don't waste all those ingredients. Sounds like a win-win. Except the cookies practically fall to pieces as I remove them from the cookie sheets.

Oh yes, gluten doesn't just taste good, it also holds things together so when you use gluten-free flour, guess what? (I have no idea how I knew that, but I did. Probably that Home Ec class back in 9th grade.) I glare at the expensive gluten-free flour that will probably be in the trash if I can't find another use for it aside from baking. (Okay, not really, I'd more likely give it away on Craigslist first.)

As a last resort, I ask the roommate to try a cookie (which crumbles like the Republican Party as he tries to pick it up). I figure if a guy will eat them, then a post office should have no problem disposing of my mistake (one way or another). He says they aren't bad, but they don't taste like my normal cookies, which means others will notice the weird taste too. CRAP.

Open trash can - insert cookies.

It is now 8:30pm. Score: Universe 1, Traci 0.

I decide I'm going to Vons (a "real" grocery store as opposed to the smaller local one I went to for the butter) and I will try again this whole cookie fiasco when I get back. I'm a late-night person - I can bake until 2am!

I actually consult all the recipes I've pulled out and make a list this time. Yay for thinking ahead! I remove the apron, turn off the music, close the fireplace doors, don the coat, and go to Vons. I spend SIXTY DOLLARS on ingredients. Okay, maybe Peppermint Schnapps and Baileys don't count as ingredients, but one of them is certainly going into SOMETHING I'm making when I get home.

10:00pm. I return with (among other things) brown sugar, new eggs, and attitude. I stoke the fire and put the apron back on but skip the music. I finish mixing the Sand Tarts and get the dough into the frig. I wipe down the counters - three times because Gods, where does all that dirt come from? It's like the counters just make it fresh themselves. I clean the bowl and measuring cups I used so they're ready again. I clean the cookie sheets. Then I clean the sink because it's porcelain and anything aluminum (like the bowl and sheets) makes horrid marks all over it wherever it touches.

11:30pm. I decide to just check email and say hi on IM to the boyfriend before continuing, and you know what happens next...

That's it. I surrender. After 4 hours I have NOTHING to show for my baking efforts. Not ONE cookie. I'm too tired to face the kitchen again so I will live to bake another day (like tomorrow). I decide to just surf the net a bit and go to bed.

Except then I see my mother's CDs sitting by the desk. I had promised I would load them all onto iTunes and send her the files so she doesn't have to deal with it. The CDs have been there at least two months now. I decide since I'm sending her a box of stuff for her birthday, and I've just reformatted the Mac and not yet restored my own iTunes, this is the best time to do it. So I load a CD and grab my book (which I had intended to read by the fire while the cookies were in the oven... HA!!).

I'm currently reading Malcolm Gladwell's What The Dog Saw. It's a great book and I really enjoy Gladwell's writing style. He's talking about late bloomers vs. precocity... comparing prodigies to people that become successful later in life. One of the stories relates the difference of how two authors became famous. One took 18 years and 30 trips to Haiti before he had a bestseller. The other was in his 20s (I think) and took one trip to Ukraine (3 days) to inspire the book that made him rich. I realize I am more like the Haiti guy (the late bloomer), where I need to gather lots of experiences before I can write about them.

In thinking about this, I realize one of the good things about being unemployed is I have LOTS of time to go experience things. (And isn't that how Jen Lancaster wrote her first book as well?) The bad part is I haven't been taking near enough advantage of my freedom. I've been on quite a few trips in the past several months, which has been awesome, but they haven't really been explorations I would want to write about. They've provided very little new experience. So I get to thinking about taking a trip just for experience, but it cant be too far away as the money is running low.

The BF has mentioned before a place about 2 hours from here called Idyllwild. Unfortunately it's a place he went to with a former girlfriend (ew), but if I can get over that it sounds like a cool artist community up in the trees. Perfect for new experiences, yes?

So I pull up the map to Idyllwild and print it out, then go about finding out what's there that I shouldn't miss. I'm already thinking I'm going TOMORROW (I mean, why wait?) except I have cookies to bake. Damn the bad luck. And Thursday is Christmas Eve, Friday is Christmas. And I AM looking forward to them this year even though I feel like a total hypocrite celebrating a Christian holiday when I am so NOT that (except it's really a Pagan holiday that was warped by the Christians, so that makes me feel a LITTLE better). Hmmm. Guess this will have to be Saturday or Sunday.

Nevertheless, one click leads to another and I end up at a web site for Anza Observatory. I'm thinking AWESOME - you gotta love anywhere that wants to watch the stars watching us. Except the more I poke around this site, the more I find out that it's just a guy in a house out in the middle of nowhere AND now he's moved because society has encroached on his little hideaway and polluted the sky with light. ::SIGH::

The good thing is, he has built a page with the pictures of comparisons of star sizes that I've wanted to put together for a couple years. It's not quite as polished as I'd make it, but it works. Awesome! Now I can share it! And here it is:

http://www.anzaobservatory.com/ourplace.html

You may have received this (in part or whole) in email before, but it's always amazing to me to see how small we are in this big ol' Universe. And how TOTALLY insignificant that makes cookies in the scope of things. And I have to wonder how in the world the Universe has time to screw with me over kitchen antics when there's ALL THAT OUT THERE.

Incidentally, and totally off the subject, I also discovered this organization from one of my mom's CDs called Metamusic - Gaia:

http://www.monroeinstitute.org/

From their "About Us" page: "The Monroe Institute provides experiential education programs facilitating the personal exploration of human consciousness ... The Monroe Institute also serves as the core of a research affiliation investigating the evolution of human consciousness and making related information available to the public. The Institute is devoted to the premise that focused consciousness contains definitive solutions to the major issues of human experience and a greater understanding of such consciousness can be achieved through coordinated research efforts using an interdisciplinary approach."

I find this stuff fascinating and lately I've been pointed to a lot of info on brainwave research and such. Wonder where THAT'S going.

So I guess that's finally all I have to say for tonight. Now it's 6am and I have yet to sleep - AGAIN. You gotta write when it strikes I guess.

Have an awesome Wednesday. :)

Ignite San Diego

I came across this idea today through a former colleague on LinkedIn. Amazing what kind of info comes out of the nooks and crannies of the Net. Anyway, check it out...

http://ignite.oreilly.com/

What a cool idea! You get five minutes on stage in front of a crowd to cover practically any topic you want, you get a slide presentation (probably made by you I imagine) that changes every 15 seconds whether you like it or not, so you have to time your talk accordingly. It's like Toastmasters for Generation Y.

You'd think five minutes isn't a long time, but once you're in front of a crowd with pressure to talk about something for that long, trust me, it's a LOOOONNNG time. Unless you're one of those people that LOVES attention and can't shut up, then perhaps it would be not enough time. Either way tho, what an interesting way to spread information! Especially because you get 20 pictures (correct me if I'm wrong because we all know I suck at math) and if pictures are worth a thousand words, then no matter how fast you talk, you just got an extra 20,000 words in!

Got water?

Yesterday my daughter calls me from the driveway and says, "Come out here and look at this." I go outside and there's a huge oddly-colored cloud hovering over the area. I agreed that it did not look normal, but we couldn't figure out what it was by osmosis, so I went back inside.

As I walked in, I noticed the sunlight streaming in through the glass doors onto my white papasan chair was literally RED. Since when does natural sunlight look like something from a Steven King movie? Nothing freaky or eerie about that at all! I mean seriously, the sun is always the color of blood, right? WTF?

I was a little freaked at this so I went to the window to verify that our fireball in the sky had not collapsed into supernova or that aliens had not replaced our primary lightbulb with some kind of solar compact florescent. I noted that the cloud from the front of the house actually extended all the way over and across the back of the complex, then funneled down to a V on the horizon over by Camp Pendleton Marine Base. The brain latched onto the only answer: smoke. LOTS. TONS. Again, WTF?

Having witnessed the World Trade Center's demise firsthand, I have to admit this brought my heart up to my throat a little more quickly than most people probably would've reacted. (Funny how I keep thinking that event didn't affect me much.) My brain immediately panicked, listing off things such as nuclear attack, air raids, bombs, etc., and I wondered if I should even continue breathing.

Since I have no tv service (because I choose not to), I had to rely on the internet for information. I called Katy back as I tripped up the stairs to find out what was going on.

CNN had a small banner at the top announcing a brush fire at Camp Pendleton. Not much further information, but at least it gave me some keywords to search with. According to local news sources, the fire started only an hour and a half before, and was covering several acres, but was not in an area that threatened any homes or people. Still... wow. My logical brain pointed out if there was that much smoke from one small fire, do the math for the San Diego fires that made national news last year! Holy crap!

I watched a news video online taken from a helicopter. At first they give you the wide shot, then zoom in a bit. I'm thinking, hey, that doesn't look TOO bad. I mean, how big of an area is that? Probably not that large. The Marines surely have enough trucks to cover it.

Then they show another helicopter below them coming in to drop water (or something) on the fire. It looks about the size of a gnat against a field of flames. Perspective is an awesome thing.

I kept tabs on the news through the rest of the afternoon and evening because it was only about 10 miles from our house, and I remembered hearing how fast the flames traveled in 2007. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be much to report.

That evening I had a date in Oceanside. I took 76 due West. It was after dark. As I rounded one of the corners, my eyes caught the enormous orange unnatural glow beneath a heavy ceiling of clouds. I've never in my life seen such a thing. It was both awesome and terrifying at the same time.

My poor date called about this time and I spewed my incredulity over the cell phone to him (way to make a first impression!), trying to explain in between gasps and babbling that this was my first fire season here in San Diego and I'd never seen a brush fire before. I don't blame him for laughing at me.

I so wanted to stop and take pictures because I had my camera in my purse, but I was already late so I managed to restrain myself. However, on my way back a few hours later I definitely took the opportunity to drive up to a place where I could get a good look at the goings on. Even from a couple miles away you could see the movement of flames licking the air in a frenzied dance down the hillside. I called Katy and told her to get dressed because I was bringing her back out to see this since I prayed it was the ONLY time EVER that we would get to witness a wildfire so close to our house.

By the time I retrieved her and we made it back to a good spot to view the damage, the fire had made it almost to the bottom of the hill. I read later that the wind actually shifted and helped the firefighters contain the blaze. Thank goodness, because it was definitely headed for the nearest community.

Katy and I tried to get pics, but they were mostly blurry. I found the following on www.signonsandiego.com and they are a much better representation of what we saw. God bless professional photographers. May I someday join their ranks. It was just so amazing and mesmerizing, and at the same time I hope I never see that again.

So in my four short months as a SoCal resident, I've already experienced an earthquake and a brush fire. I feel like I am no longer a California Virgin. Perhaps these are the hazing rituals of the Cosmos... or maybe Mother Nature is trying to make up for us missing the autumn colors up North right now. I'd much rather She contain it to beautiful but harmless leaves. The front row seat to Hell's Concert of the Year would not be my first choice of venue.

Being Grateful to Breathe Freely

I had to wait in line for almost 20 minutes to put gas in the tank today. At first I was annoyed because I had groceries in the car that weren't getting any fresher, and who wants to spend a beautiful day waiting to fill Big Oil's pockets with blood money? But the orange sharpie marker on my arm reminded me to "Breathe freely" (a new fav mantra that came to me last night as I was falling asleep) so I opened the sunroof and turned off the car to extinguish pollution from both air and mind.

I started by thinking about how grateful I was to again live less than a mile from the cheapest gas station in the area (hence, the lines - I also had this blessing in New Jersey), and that I managed to so easily manifest the money I needed so I could be there.

I also admitted that I was overreacting for my own convenience on the issue of getting the perishables into colder regions, and I was thankful that I was not truly pressed for time.

I then reminded my Self that everything happens for a reason, so maybe the delay had purposes I was unaware of.

When I leaned my head back to gaze through the sunroof, I noticed a beautiful hawk (or perhaps one of our resident golden eagles, I still have a hard time telling which is which) playing in the air currents above. Normally I see them over the field across the street from my house because it is a veritable buffet of tasty raptor snacks. Not sure what this one was looking for over the gas station unless he'd become addicted to stray fries in the McDonalds' dumpsters next door.

My feathered friends are one thing that makes Bonsall really awesome to live in. We have many large birds soaring around and I've often had the opportunity to watch them at length. The more I do, the easier it becomes to lose myself so completely in their flight that I can feel the waves and dips in the breeze as it sweeps over their wings and carries them aloft. Today was just like that. It was so nice (and easy) to rise above my negative thoughts, and I'm grateful to Great Spirit for giving my attention a better focus.

I'm also idly wondering now if gas stations breed negativity because the corporations behind them are doing such awful things to our planet. And now many of them (at least here in CA) have the balls to put TVs at the pumps and try to fill your brain with more blather and pre-programmed propaganda while you fill your tank. Not to mention the "convenience" stores carry such crap food and drink... but that's another post I suppose.

~*~

This manifestation of money over the weekend has been interesting. Katy and her bf (we'll call him E) finally made it out here this past Thursday. I'm amazed but grateful my trusty old Camaro made it all the way across country without even blinking. I should've had more faith in a Chevy.

The kids have definitely been having fun on the way as this trip has also served as a vacation for E. A well-deserved one I imagine after living with my overly-dependent daughter for four months. I've been struggling just to meet my bills on the salary from my job, so I was very worried about how I was going to afford doing anything fun with them while E was here. (He leaves Monday to go back East.)

The first challenge came up when E decided he wanted to see the Padres play at Petco Park since they're at home this weekend. My stubborn Irish pride was not about to let him pay for me, who is almost 40 and should certainly have enough funds by this time to not only pay for herself but the kids too. I mean cripes, I may not look my age (which I'm infinitely grateful for) but I should at least be able to act it. (Once in awhile. :)

I've seen people advertise free tickets at the last minute on craigslist before, so I decided I was going to ask the Universe for help. I posted in the Items Wanted section asking if anyone had four tickets that they weren't using to any of the games this weekend. I know this happens all the time, and the Padres are already out of the playoffs, plus they were playing the Pirates, who are in last place. Not something you would call "a big game." I had two responses within an hour. The first one was bogus, but the second one was legit. The tix were for that night's game, so I called the kids to tell them to come back from the beach while I emailed the lady to make arrangements to pick up the tix. I am so infinitely grateful to her and told her so several times. (I feel like I'm abusing the crap out of the word grateful in this post - there should be more than three words in the thesaurus to express gratitude dammit!)

Now I had to figure out how to get enough cash for gas and whatever else might come up. I remembered I still have a second computer monitor we're no longer using, so I quick took some pics of it and stuck it on eBay with every related keyword I could think of in the coding. Normally these things take a few days to sell, so I knew it was a long shot. I priced it above the going rate but with free shipping and I'll be damned if it didn't sell within the hour. I was surprised and not (and OMG was I grateful!) at the same time. Since I make all my Buy It Now auctions the kind where you have to pay immediately, I then had enough cash to be comfortable for at least that night.

We went to the game, I got to see my new friend again (we'll call him K) since he lives downtown near the stadium, and we all had a great time. K wanted to show us around the Gaslamp District (a section of downtown that's been revitalized with tons of restaurants and clubs), but Katy and E were wiped out from their day at the beach. We headed home, but agreed to meet today instead.

Of course, going down there again meant I had to come up with more funds, so last night when we got home I put something else on eBay, and damn if that didn't sell by morning too. How awesome is the Universe for helping out like this?

The kids ended up being super lazy today though and weren't ready to go anywhere until after 7pm. (And people think I'M bad about taking an hour to get ready! HA!) I wasn't going to encourage them to leave earlier because the more they're happy being at home, the less money we're spending. Unfortunately tho, by the time we left I couldn't get hold of K, so we were on our own tonight. We managed to walk the entire Gaslamp District anyway and had a nice dinner at an out of the way pub. It was a good time and I loved just roaming around observing all that was going on. Also found the House of Blues, which was good for future reference since there are several musicians I like that often make that their stop in SD, and Dick's Last Resort, which is a restaurant I've always wanted to check out.

Incidentally, one of my observations was that San Diego women really dress to the nines to go clubbing. There were so many stiletto heels and short skirts on little black dresses that Mark probably would've dropped over from sheer testosterone overload. (That's something I really miss about him - being able to discuss how hot people are and not feel like a total lesbian if the hot person happens to be a girl. I truly have no interest in girls [and he has no interest in guys], but we both appreciate pretty things no matter which gender they are. Too bad most pretty things totally ruin the image as soon as they open their mouths.)

The clothes (or lack of) are what really got me though. I had to stop and think, "Damn, did I dress that slutty when I was that age?" And Ego was totally like, "Honey, you were ALL OVER THAT." (I remember the first time I met Mark I was wearing a red dress and black stockings with 4 inch heels and my father said I looked like a whore before I left. At the time I was pretty hurt and defensive, but now I'm thinking he may have been right. Mark didn't mind tho.) I got all my clubbing/drinking/"whoring" done before I had Katy at age 20, so I was actually younger than most of these girls (in years anyway) when I was dressing that way. Thank God for fake IDs.

So anyway, the Gaslamp District rocks even tho I had to walk around with my hands in my pockets instead of holding someone else's. I was thankful I no longer have the peer pressure to freeze my ass off in a skirt and heels; my jeans and Chucks were never so appreciated.

Best of all, when I got home, I had email from two people answering ads for things I've had on craigslist for a week, so now, not only am I covered for this time with the kids, but I've managed to cover the overdue phone bill as well. Go me.

Breathe freely. Have patience. All I am seeking is seeking me.

It's worked so perfectly since I've lived here it's like I've been given the gift of magic.

A Beautiful View, or Snot

The last couple days I’ve been recovering from a sinus infection. I’m a wet dream for most health insurance companies because this is the only occasion for which I drag myself to a medical professional, and I’ve got it down to once a year. Financially, it’s the worst return on investment ever, but it’s not like I’m upset that I’m healthy. It would be nice if premiums were calculated on a sliding scale, but that would be asking too much of an industry built on fear. Reward people for a positive outcome? Not on your life policy!

Right now I don’t have health insurance though, so I made up my mind to beat it without antibiotics this time, and I am. I’m taking Echinacea/Goldenseal every four hours, and enough Emergen-C to make peeing my new hobby. For all those readers with stock in Kimberly-Clark Worldwide (they make Kleenex), you’re welcome for increased profits this quarter.

I remember a long time ago my mother told me sinus infections were “inner crying,” or tears that we’re not shedding. Makes sense, especially during the Water Faucet Phase when I have to walk around with Kleenex stuffed up my nose just so I don’t drip on the carpet. So attractive. If I ever wondered why I’m still single, that might be a clue right there.

I believe Mom learned the inner crying thing from a Louise Hay book. I don’t like to focus on the negative, but when this particular malady hits me, I stop to think about what I’m not crying about that maybe I should be. Well small wonder this time around: there’s been just a little stress in the last couple months with moving cross-country, the financial strain of increased living expenses, family pressure regarding my daughter, and I really miss being in my relationship. Add to that a small misunderstanding between myself, my ex, and his new girlfriend and I can see why it’s raining inside my head.

Oddly (or not), I was trolling through a message board tonight and came across a link to the Louise Hay video below. It took me three hours to watch it because every five minutes I had to hit pause and email the link to someone I was reminded of by what was being said, or to write things down that I wanted to remember. None of it was wisdom I hadn’t heard before, but over time you forget what you’ve learned and it’s always good to bring that info back to the front of your consciousness.

If you’ve got an hour and a half to spare (unless you’re like me, and will have to hit pause several hundred times), this is well worth the view.

Speaking of views, I went to dinner tonight with a new acquaintance and we continued our conversation in a stroll down the beach afterwards. I’ve never been down there after dark because a) generally on the East coast it’s a no-no to be on the beach after the sun goes down, and b) wandering around alone in an unfamiliar place that could be potentially deserted and/or dangerous did not seem like a good idea. I’m crazy, not stupid. (For the record, it wasn’t deserted or dangerous. Must be why they call it Moonlight Beach – duh.)

If you and I were communicating through something other than two-dimensional words right now, you would be hearing those little gasps of unbelieveability people make when they are grasping for a description that is beyond language, while my hands made flailing motions to indicate the futility of speech.

Crescent moon glowing in a clear night sky… sea of stars reflected in a vast expanse of deep blue… the pulsing rhythm of waves rolling onto the sand… BAH. None of it can recreate the image that was before my eyes. I’ve seen some pretty awe-inspiring nature-rific panoramas in my travels, but WOW. All I can say is run – do not walk – to your nearest Pacific Ocean after sunset. Hollywood can’t come close to this kind of scene.

What's Shakin' in Cali

Yes Peoples, I lived to blog about my first Cosmic California Hazing Ritual. If you wanna play with the cool kids in Eden, you gotta expect to catch some shit from God before you’re accepted to the group I guess.

Yesterday morning I was on the phone with a guy I work with and there’s this loud rumbling noise. Nevermind the house shaking. I interrupt myself to say to my co-worker, “What the hell is going on out there?” as I shoot a look of total annoyance towards the open glass door. I mean Jesus, I’m ON THE PHONE HERE.

Left Brain is immediately searching for a logical explanation for the noise while I attempt to continue what I was saying in a louder timbre.

Left Brain: ::pokepoke:: Is there a train that runs close to the house that I didn’t know about?

Me: No, that can’t be it. There are definitely no trains close enough to cause this ridiculous rumble. Shhhh. It’ll pass.

Left Brain: A big truck out on the road perhaps?

Me: Yeah right, they could barely fit the semi back here to deliver my belongings. Highly unlikely it’s a truck. Now shut up. I’m talking.

Left Brain: It must be a helicopter from Camp Pendleton buzzing the house. It’s happened before. They’re VERY loud and they do make things rattle. ::Brain is totally indignant now:: I dunno why they let them fly that close. They should have rules about not disturbing civilians like that.

Me: What the hell is making my chair shake like that? Is the damn helicopter hovering over my house or what? Hey WAIT A MINUTE… this is California!

::energy-saving compact fluorescent lightbulb goes on::

Is this an earthquake?! Get outta town! We are NOT having an earthquake! HA! No one told me we were doing this today! Check this shit out!

So I say calmly to Jeff, “Hey, I think I’m experiencing my first earthquake.” And no sooner were the words out of my mouth than it stopped.

Wait! We’re done already? Really? But I wasn't paying attention! Nothing fell off the walls, the animals barely woke up to yawn, no one is running into the streets screaming or dying… Huh.

Well I’m not convinced that’s what it was, but at least I can finish our conversation now without the planet coming apart underneath me. Maybe it was a UFO and it ate the helicopter.

In my naiveté, I never felt scared, and I only realized in hindsight that perhaps I should've walked outside so as not to be sitting under several tons of wood, drywall, and sharp objects as Mother Earth lifted a cheek to sneak one out. To steal and modify a bit from my favorite Texan, Ron White (no, no, I would've never said George Bush! What's wrong with you?):

It's not that the Earth is a-shakin', it's what’s a-shakin’ around you. ::nodnod::

After I got off the phone with work, I called Mom to tell her I think we had an earthquake. She was at my grandparents’ house, and they always have the TV on. If I ever need to know anything about any celebrity (live or dead), I call my grandmother because her mission in life is to follow the lives of others, and that requires a whole lotta tv and tabloids. If she would only start a blog, she could be the Perez Hilton of the Senior Set.

About three sentences pass between my mother and I then she says, “Yep, they’re reporting it on CNN. 6.8 in LA.”

Ego swaggers over and goes, “6.8?! That was 6.8?! Pfffshhh. If that’s all Earth’s got, then bring it on baby. I’ll take an earthquake over a tornado ANYDAY.”

Turns out it was only 5.3 on the Richter scale, and the epicenter (all these new words in my vocab!) was 71 miles to the northwest of me in Chino Hills. And oh yeah, the jump between 5.3 and say, 7, is pretty fuckin’ serious. So I should keep my mouth shut and not challenge the Planet to a duel because it will not be my day to win.

The only thing that really bothers me about this earthquake business is I can't come up with a plan to get all the animals out if a really good one comes our way. There is no warning of such things, and at the most, you’ve probably got a couple minutes before it stops. By the time I shove six animals into cages, even in a great hurry, it’d be over. If it was on the scale at 7, I’d be buried, or dead, or both along with all of my pets.

I did, however, consider what else an earthquake could rip apart and what kind of havoc that may cause after the fact. Things like lack of electricity, unsafe water, exposure to coyotes.

Hmmm. ::considers Indiana/Illinois experience:: Naahhhh... I still think I’d take an earthquake over a tornado. But I filled up the 2 gallon water bottles I have sitting idly by, and I'll revisit the idea of investing in a generator. Or at least make sure the Jeep is out of the garage so I can actually drive away if I have enough gas.

Speaking of Four Legged People That Are Supposed To Be Indicators of Such Events, no one here blinked an eye before or after. When it was over, I listened for an unnatural quiet outside, but no. Birds were singing and everything was normal. Huh. Some alarm system. Next time I'm calling ADT.

It's kind of weird that no one here talks about it. I've been in stores and spoken to my neighbors but no one has brought up the fact that there was an earthquake the other day. It's not like they're afraid to talk about it, just seems like it was so insignificant to them they forgot it happened already.

Guess I'm still a newb.

The Universe Snaps Back

Alternate Title if this was porn: A Sucky Story with a Happy Ending

(Can't wait to see what kind of automated Google ads THAT brings up!)

Last night, I sent email to two people on craigslist that each listed a vacuum for $25. One was in Oceanside, the other in San Marcos. The San Marcos vacuum was red and a little older (but not more than 5 years), and looked like your normal modern-day upright that uses a bag. The Oceanside vacuum was a cool lime green, rounded like a Dyson (read: newer), it was bagless (read: better for the environment), and I got attached to the idea that I would refer to it as "The Green Monster" in honor of the outfield wall at Fenway (for the baseball-impaired, Fenway is the home of the Boston Red Sox - Go Saux!). I even planned to get a team sticker for it.

San Marcos called me back first, but I really wanted the green one from Oceanside so I stalled with an excuse and told her I wanted to check out some reports on the performance of her model before committing to it - can I call her back in an hour? Sure, she says.

A couple hours later Oceanside calls and I arrange to go get The Green Monster. I'm under the gun because I have to meet my landlady in an hour, and it would take just about that long to get there and back. I go anyway, but first I call San Marcos and give a lame excuse about saving gas and ask if I could come by Sunday on my way to Encinitas? Sure, she says. I also told her that if someone else was interested don't wait for me - I didn't want to be unfair - but I honestly didn't think anyone else would inquire because it was an older model.

The Jeep sucked down an entire gallon of gas going to Oceanside, much like I inhaled an entire bottle of Bolthouse Hazelnut Latte, my newest addiction (trying to replace Starbucks; the Mocha Cappuccino and the Vanilla Chai also rock). The guy brings Big Green outside to show me and it's this tiny little thing that looks like no more than the stick vac I already have (and the stick vac ain't cuttin' it, which is why I'm looking for another vacuum). It was like expecting a roar and getting a yawn instead.

I swear, in the picture it looked like a standard size, but I've been fooled this way before. Pictures are worth 1000 words, but they don't provide actual measurements. (Remember that next time you're looking at naughty things on the internet. You know who you are.) I even asked on the phone how many amps it had and he said 12 (which was the truth), so I assumed it had to be full size. It was certainly as loud as a full size. You'd think something like that would come with matching lime green, noise-canceling ear covers like landscapers wear so you can eliminate dirt and debris in style! What stick vac is 12 amps? That's like putting a 2HP motor on a blender! Oh wait, they do that.

Despite him promising that it worked just like a regular full size vacuum I said no thanks, that I couldn't afford to take the chance that it doesn't do the job as well as I need it to. So disappointing. I really wanted a Big Green Sucking Machine. Not a Small Lean Might Get It Clean.

So I pull around the corner from his house and call San Marcos to say, "Hey! Guess what? I found out I'm closer to your area than I thought and I was wondering if I could come by now to take a look at the vac?" But oops... someone else called about it [read: she had another person interested already and since I sort of passed, she called them] and they were on their way over. Crap. I so totally deserved that.

She promised to call me back and let me know if the guy took it, but c'mon... $25 for a decent upright? And it's a guy coming to look - guys aren't that picky. That thing is SO gone.

I headed in the direction of San Marcos anyway, hoping she would call in the 15 minutes it took to get to the exit where I'd have to decide to continue on or turn to go home. She didn't call. I argued with myself that she would call - maybe I should just pull over and wait. No, I had to go home and meet the landlady. ::SIGH:: I took the exit to head north.

Good thing, because my cell phone never rang.

Two hours later my home line blurts out its anemic summons (a whole 'nother story) and it's San Marcos saying she's SO sorry she didn't contact me earlier but her cell mysteriously erased my number so she didn't have a way to call me back! Ouch. Ok, I deserved that one too.

She was very helpful though, suggesting I check out a yellow vacuum currently on sale at Target for only $50. She said she bought the same thing and it's working great. I thanked her for the tip and we said goodbye.

Moral of the story: if you keep pulling the Universe's rubber band, eventually it's going to snap back and sting you.

The happy ending to this story is that I went back to craigslist (if they ever go public, I have to buy stock!) and found another vac for only $15 that looks like it will do the job well. And this time I'm not fooling around. I made an appointment and I'll keep it, and unless something goes horribly wrong, I will own it for less than either of the other two. Even when the Universe slaps you, at least it will kiss it and make it better after.

Oh, and this Mighty Hoover is teal colored - not exactly a Green Monster, but hey, it matches the Jeep! And I'll call it Edgar, even though I don't think my grandfather (who shares the name) would appreciate that too much. I'll have to use the J in front when I'm around him.

So J. Edgar Hoover will be in charge of digging up dirt and busting the floors as Finally Being Intolerable. (::giggles at her own joke::)

~*~

In other news... I was cleaning out the pictures on my cell phone and realized there are many I took to post here, but I forgot all about them! So here is what I've been saving up for you, my fellow Planetary Peoples.

Take a look at the store hours on this sign and tell me what's wrong with this picture:

If there are two extra days available for only 99 cents each, someone PLEASE point me to that aisle, because I can't tell you how many times I would've gladly given my last two bucks for an extra 48 hours!

And speaking of signs: Go Semper Fi! ...or not.

While we're on the subject of heroes, did you know Jewish carpenters fall into that category? Yes, folks, you too can own the Jesus action figure! He's poseable! He's inspiring! He saves...

...you money! Available at Borders Book Store (no kidding). Cross not included. Mary Magdalene sold separately.

I've always said there were plenty of good prophets in our history, Jesus just had the best marketing.

(The Google ad algorithm is now having a melt down figuring out if it can list ads for porn and Christian products on the same page.)

Seriously though, I took this pic awhile back at Starbucks (sorry it's blurry) because I was thrilled to see two of my own heroes sharing space on the rack. Frank Sinatra and Jason Mraz. Both Fond of Hats. These guys are the best crooners ever to inhabit our fair planet:

And I had this pic on my phone too... the story behind this one is that every time I'd say organic food is better for you, Mark would scoff and say, "Boron's organic, but that's not good for you!" Well sir, apparently it is in select cases! :P

And this... this is why I'm here on the West coast... being here to witness scenes like this is what makes this place like paradise:

And this last one was also taken at the beach... apparently kicked off in a fit of joy: (Dane Cook fans will know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.)

I can't see a lone shoe lying anywhere now that I don't think of that line. God bless Dane Cook. He's one of the people that makes me laugh almost daily.

Dear Owner of This Shoe: Your property has been impounded by The Ocean. You can retrieve your missing footwear at the Great Pacific Garbage Patch in 4-6 months. Karma is the only form of payment accepted. Good luck.

Where Eagles Fly

Every time I drive around the area I live in, I am absolutely amazed by the beauty. I can't drink it in fast enough. I am SO LUCKY to live here! And it's always changing too - it still looks new and different to me even when I take the same road. People driving behind me must think I'm drunk the way I weave to the side because I'm paying more attention to the scenery than where I'm going.

Today I found myself with the hood pointed at the sky as I climbed to a house that was right out of the movies. It was a golden stucco with iron-scrolled balconies and fences, complete with a fountain in the courtyard. It was like the Southwest meets Tuscany or something. Incredibly beautiful. And the views... OMG! Had to be worth at least a couple million, especially considering the land it was sitting on. The drive up was not the first time around here that I was grateful to have a Jeep!

I was also thankful I had my camera with me this time. The pictures are nice, but they pale in comparison to the panoramic scenery I was inhaling with every Ooooo and Ahhhh. This is like living in Eden, but with coyotes. :D

Manifest Destiny

So what about this great place I’ve landed in? "Far out" is exactly what it is, but in a "totally rad" California-good way. :D

The movers delivered my belongings the very next day, after I agreed to pay their full ridiculous price. The only other option was they unload everything into storage and we argue over it in court. Stuff is simply not worth all that negative vibe to me. At first I told the guy to just keep it all – I wasn’t paying, but I only half meant it. I probably would’ve gotten over the loss (I find my attachment to things is shallow – out of sight, out of mind, with very few exceptions), but I knew it would end up in court because they would want the rest of their money and who wants all that hassle? Not me. I will probably end up suing them in small claims for the difference because I can’t afford to be an extra $1600 in debt, but confrontation is so not my bag. In fact, I dunno why I’m even headed down that thought path because it stresses me out. I wanna write about the fun stuff.

In the Now, let’s check out my list of what I was hoping for in my new address, down to the silly (and sometimes unreasonable) details:

• Washer/dryer – check
• 2 bathrooms – check
• Lots of space (including closets and storage) – check
• Kitchen sink: double sided porcelain, not stainless steel (I’m weird like that) – check
• Dishwasher – check
• Gas stove – this one’s electric. I can deal.
• Fireplace – check (I don’t care if I never use it, it looks cool. ☺)
• Offstreet parking for 2 cars (the Universe is like, “does a garage work for you?” Uhh, YES!) – check
• Tile or wood floors, but carpet in the bedrooms – check (they’re tile)
• Individual owner, not a management company – check
• Viewable stars in the night sky (the sky at Mom’s house in New Mexico spoiled me, but there’s at least as many stars here on a clear night as NJ had) – check
• Small town atmosphere that’s still convenient to shopping and daily needs – check
• Organic grocery – check check check (I think there are more organic stores here than “normal” ones)
• Color in the vegetation – (is there ever NOT color here?) check!

In other words, I was blessed with EVERYTHING I wanted, including stuff I didn’t really expect, but wished for anyway. (Ok, except the stove. It still heats my tea water, so I'll survive.)

I was gifted with things I didn’t even think of as well: I’m surrounded by horse ranches and golf courses, which makes for a beautiful drive in every direction, and the energy of affluent people due to the nature of those businesses. There are Golden Eagles - EAGLES! - that fly around here all the time. I’ve heard their cries, and the other day I saw one circling the house. WOW. Talk about powerful energy.

What I didn’t get, but then I didn’t ask for it either, was central heat and air conditioning. This place is a little weird that way, but I chalk it up to the Cosmic Sense of Humor. I mean technically, I didn't ask for it, right? One should never assume.

The heat is radiant heat (not forced air), and Kathy told me it’s in the ceiling. Makes no sense to have it there since heat rises, but I guess back in the 80s when the condo was built, they were still learning. I’m not sure how warm downstairs will be in the winter (upstairs will probably be fine), but then it probably gets down to a chilly 60° on the worst winter day here, so I’m not anticipating much of a problem, even though I’m one of those people that’s always cold. I still have all my thick northeast sweaters and my space heaters. Perhaps I’ll get some use out of them.

I’ve unpacked most of the boxes and pretty well settled in. I’ve been abusing craigslist, replacing many of the things I sold before I left, enjoying the hunt for deals and driving around to pick things up. Turns out furnishing your home from craigslist is an excellent way to learn your way around a new city. It’s almost like living in a rat maze – if you take all the right turns, you get a treat at the end! Unfortunately, the people waiting with the treat don’t like accepting payment in rat poop. Shame that, because I’m RICH in rat poop thanks to my fuzzy brats.

A couple Sundays after I got here I went to Encinitas to pick up a rug for the dining room and passed a sign for Moonlight Beach. I’d heard of it before because Switchfoot (my second most favorite band ever) puts on a benefit concert there once a year, and I planned to go but then I chose to stay in New Mexico for that week instead so I missed it. (Ok, yeah, Jason was supposed to play too, but in this case it really wasn't just him I was going to see.)

After stuffing the rug in the back of the Jeep, I thought I would “just go check out the ocean, then go home.” HA. Two hours and a mile or so later, I came back with a wicked sunburn, but I don’t regret it a bit.

As expected, most people were within 100 yards of the beach entrance so I walked a little ways down the shoreline to admire the view in peace. However, something about the atmosphere fostered an otherworldly, dreamlike state and I was loathe to break it so I just kept walking. As I wandered down the sand, it was hard to decide whether to absorb the geology of the cliffs to my right with the wonder of the mansions sitting atop them, or the vast, commanding presence of the ocean to my left. I was walking between the perfect opposition of Earth and Water with a clear, blue Sky overhead. (I guess that makes me the Fire element – no wonder I got burned!) Time was easily suspended. Being in that space, one would be hard-pressed not to feel close to whatever name you lay on God.

In those moments, all my doubts about moving here were sucked into the undertow and I recognized it was that which drove me. The feeling I get when I know I’m completely in the right place, no matter what chaos happened in getting there or what chaos may lie beyond it – experiencing that connection was/is the reason for all the sorting, packing, leaving work/friends/family, driving through tornadoes and deserts, sneaking animals into hotels... When I started this adventure, I knew I would find it – I counted on it. I just didn’t know when or where it would show up. I certainly lost sight of it when I arrived, but I kept my faith in what I set out to do, and that unyielding knowing is what I was after. It was in that very moment, standing before Big Blue that I knew down to the cellular level: This was SO worth it.

I even snapped a pic and sent it to Jenn with those very words. ☺

Yeah, you know, that is such a powerful feeling I can’t even think what to write next, so I’ll leave it be until tomorrow. It’s 5 am anyway and I need to sleep a little before work. If you’ve ever had that feeling you know what I’m talking about. If not, you’ll get there with faith.

Trust in your Self.

How I Got Here

I’m in the papasan chair on my back patio. Incense mixes with the scent of oleanders to tickle my nose, and low music hums a background for the bugs serenading the almost-full moon over my left shoulder. The sun exited the stage long ago to party with the other side of the globe for awhile, and the breeze has dropped along with the temp. It may sound like a big ol’ cliché, but it’s very peaceful. Okay, oleanders don’t really smell much, but it sounded good, right? And the rest is all true. ☺

I was trying to read a book, but my mind would not stay still. All these phrases and words fill my head that have nothing to do with the story and I feel the need to write, so I’ve grabbed the laptop and here we are. Finally. I know it’s about time, but Time? Pssshhhhh. What a concept.

In my last post, our hero (::Ego’s hand shoots up::) was waiting to hear about which of two places I would call home. I mentioned that I ended up in Bonsall, but it was interesting how all that came down.

On Friday the 13th of June I was pretty far down in the dumps about San Diego. It was not what I expected, and I was not finding any places to live that met my criteria and my snobby tastes, and that were in my price range. The situation was bleak.

Mom and I decided to hunt in Escondido that day. After driving by a couple “no way” properties and playing phone tag with a condo owner, we happened upon a house on East 10th Street in Old Escondido. It was almost 5:00, but we called the realtor’s number on the sign anyway. The girl was about to leave for the day, so she gave us the lock box code and said to call on Monday if we liked it. I wasn’t sure I could wait that long and the rent was way above what I could even consider, but we went in anyway.

I fell in love with the house. I thought surely this was the place I was meant to be in for a couple reasons. First, the address was 221 and 21 has been my lucky number for a very long time. Second, there were dragonflies. (For those reading here for the first time, dragonflies have been one of my totems for about 12 years.)

The house was built in the 30s and had a couple very charming features, one of which was an old-fashioned doorbell that looked like windchimes hanging in a recessed niche in the wall. Under the doorbell, the owner had left a decorative row of hooks like you’d put keys on, and the hooks were all dragonflies. I actually have a very similar key rack already. I took this as a sign.

Further exploration showed the house had 3 bedrooms and 2 full baths. It also already had the 2” wood slat blinds I was picturing in my new place. The front and back were beautifully landscaped (if a bit dry from neglect), and there was an orange tree and an apricot tree in the backyard, just off the HUGE redwood deck. I was already picturing the BBQs and parties on that deck!

I grabbed my camera and took all kinds of pictures so I could concentrate on manifesting our living there. It was WAY above what I could afford tho. (Jenn: I still have to send you the pic of the dark raspberry faux finish walls in the kitchen – I knew you would get such a kick out of them!)

Mom convinced me to call the realtor and offer a deal since the house had been standing empty for a month. I tried, but it went right to voice mail, which was already full so I couldn’t even leave a message. I was disappointed, but finding something I liked that well gave me hope, and I was in desperate need of that!

Since The House was so far above my price range, I had to continue looking just in case. That night I reluctantly got on craigslist again and started making a list of places to view the next day. My attitude deteriorated quickly when most of the ads showed I would have a hard time affording anything decent in the areas I objected to the least.

I came across one ad though for a condo in Bonsall. I thought, “Where the hell is Bonsall?” As I wrote the information on my tablet, I had the same prickly feeling I got when I read the ad for the first apartment we moved to in Midland Park.

I let thinking cloud over my intuition though because I was so set on the Escondido house, and I scoffed at the idea of knowing where I was going to live before I even saw it. Nevertheless, I emailed the ad, wrote down the phone number, and starred it on my paper because at 1440 square feet, at least it would be a LOT of space.

The next morning we decided to view Bonsall first as it was the farthest property out. I tried calling the number in the ad, only to be told the lady was away until the afternoon. We decided to go check it out from outside anyway in case it wasn’t worth pursuing based on the neighborhood. Getting there seemed to take forever and I was already saying to myself, “There’s no way I’m living this far out with gas prices how they are.”

We found the street, but couldn’t tell which unit was the one from the ad. There were several for sale, and a couple for rent, but none of the phone numbers matched up. Still, it was a nicer area than I anticipated so it was not counted out. We moved on, looking at several more places in the surrounding towns.

We finally connected with Kathy, the property owner, later that evening and agreed to drive out to Bonsall again to view the condo Monday morning. She sounded like a really nice lady on the phone and again my intuition prickled, but the brain was on override for the Escondido house.

The second drive to Bonsall didn’t seem as far because we knew where we were going this time, even though we came in from a different direction. The beauty of the area was not lost on me as we passed a golf course and drove along a palm tree-lined road right out of the movies.

When I walked in the door I was pleasantly reminded of just how much space 1440 SF is. The master bedroom had TWO closets (read: I don’t have to sell half my wardrobe!), the floor was all tile (except the bedrooms), and the two full baths right off each bedroom were definitely appealing, not to mention all the storage space I’d have in the garage. It didn’t have a washer/dryer or even a refrigerator yet, but Kathy assured us all those appliances were coming. They were shooting for a July 1 move in date, but I needed it before then.

I explained my hurry with the movers on their way, wanting to deliver in the next couple days. (Not to mention Wilbur’s recent escape reminded me I was on borrowed time for getting those brats back in their regular cages.) Kathy was super accommodating and said if I could get all my information to her, she would process my application immediately, and if I didn’t mind living without appliances for a few days she didn’t mind me moving in early. We got along famously, which is always valuable in a landlord-tenant relationship. I was still hoping that Escondido house would come through, but somewhere deep down I already knew where this was headed.

The next day Mom and I had to switch hotels because I was out of free nights for the first place. We went through the process of sneaking all the animals out of the first hotel and into the second. “On edge” didn’t begin to cover the mood I was in, but it went smoothly.

I was just beginning to relax when the movers called saying they wanted to deliver that day. I still didn’t have an address. I also still had not resolved the bullshit they pulled by loading all my stuff on the truck in Jersey, THEN telling me the price would be almost twice what they quoted. When I objected, they offered to unload the truck back into the house – at 11pm on the night before I’m supposed to drive cross country. Like that was even an option.

They know they have you by the balls once your stuff is on the truck – I’ve read about this scam - but I thought since they had “Not to exceed” on the estimate that they would honor that. Ha. Guess not. What was I supposed to do? I signed the paper (the “new” contract with the “new” price), but I signed under duress (and that’s exactly what I’ll tell the judge when I see them in court).

I brought that up with the owner of the company, who was the one calling to find out where to deliver. We argued, he hung up on me, and I wondered if it would be months and a court verdict before I saw my stuff again. Nothing like a little drama to raise the blood pressure.

After hanging up, I decided I wasn’t going to let this ruin the roll I was on. I gathered all the information Kathy needed and sent it to her. Then I crossed my fingers and called Cheryl, the owner of the Escondido house.

Cheryl wasn’t thrilled about the lower rent I was proposing since they apparently bought when the market was high and had a big mortgage. She said my offer didn’t cover her expenses, but asked me to send my information anyway and she would take a look at it and decide. She and her husband live in Virginia; he is military and was transferred there unexpectedly, leaving them with the vacant California residence.

I know I don’t look good on paper because of past financial mistakes and a low credit score thanks to unemployment a couple years ago. I tried to really impress upon her what a great tenant I am, but it’s harder to do over the phone than in person. I was much more successful at that with Kathy. When Cheryl and I finished talking, I finally admitted to myself that I knew where I was going to end up, and I just had to accept it. Bonsall seemed kinda far out, but it wasn’t the end of the world. And hey, “if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space” anyway.

Kathy called me shortly thereafter and said even though her property manager advised her against renting to me based on my crappy credit (and who could blame them?), she was going with her gut because she liked me, so I could have the condo, and the truck could deliver the next day. I was enormously grateful, but not surprised.

What surprised me was the tidal wave of relief at hearing those words. It was like that first gasping intake of air as you break above the water when you’ve been held under too long. I guess being homeless is more of a weight to carry than I anticipated. At least with six animals riding along, and an angry trucking company on your ass it is.

Almost immediately after I hung up from Kathy, Cheryl called back and turned me down. I wasn’t surprised about that either. She said she had received another offer for the full rent they were asking, so they had to go with that person.

I knew it wasn’t true and I confirmed that a few weeks later. I was in Escondido shopping and went by the house out of curiosity. It was still empty with the sign out front. It seemed sad so I tried to fill it with good energy. I felt bad for it because it’s a super cute place and it deserves an awesome person to love and care for it. I hope the good energy will attract the perfect person. I can’t say I have regrets tho because I know Bonsall is right where I belong. How do I know? I’m here.

So that’s how I ended up on the patio behind the oleanders, listening to the crickets and typing away on my Mac.

More tomorrow...

Do Not Use Crown Royal Moving of Brooklyn NY

I am posting this narrative of my experience with Crown Royal Moving, located at 56 48th Street in Brooklyn, NY, web site at http://movingroyal.com, because I HOPE it will help someone else NOT be scammed by this company.

I will be filing complaints against them with several federal and local organizations, plus as many web sites as I can find that report bad movers.

I would like to point out that the loading and delivery crews were polite (with the exception of Eric Lucci once he found out I would not easily agree to their inflated price), and there were only two broken things on the truck, both of which were minor.

My belongings were delivered promptly, but only after I had no choice but to finish paying their inflated price because the owner (Vili) would not honor the BINDING PRICE ESTIMATE with the NOT TO EXCEED AGREEMENT that was promised to me. I don't think my review or my filed complaints should reflect on the individuals that drove the truck, or that loaded/unloaded. My grievances are solely with the owner of the company, Vili, and the managers involved with estimating and managing my move (Paul Towber and Eric Lucci).

Here is what I'm posting for others to read about this company on the scammer lists:

Order #W664077
NYDOT # T37074 - NYDOT # 1230294
ICC MC # 486301
Move Out Date: May 30, 2008

I received an original estimate from Paul Towber for 6000 lbs. He said the cost to move CROSS COUNTRY would be $3500. I found that hard to believe since the other moving companies I'd received estimates from ranged from $5000 - $7000. Paul said Crown Royal Moving could provide the move cheaper because they were the actual freight company, not a middle man that gave estimates, then found a freight company like them to move the load.

I told Paul that if he would provide a NOT TO EXCEED agreement, then I would go with Crown Royal Moving instead of a trusted name like United Van Lines or North American (both of which I had much higher estimates from). He wrote on the Crown Royal estimate, in his own handwriting, that the estimated price was a BINDING PRICE and NOT TO EXCEED $3500. I asked if he was sure that would hold up since it was only handwritten on the document and he said it would. The document does actually have "Binding Estimate of Cost" printed across the top. He said if I had any trouble, I was to give him a call.

Moving day came and the truck was four hours late in arriving. Due to this they did not finish loading my things until 11pm at night. Once they had everything on the truck, Eric Lucci, who was the Sales Manager in charge of the loading crew, told me I had exceeded the allowed space and therefore the price would go up. I told him Paul had given me a NOT TO EXCEED agreement written on the estimate, and I showed him the paperwork. He said he could not honor that price or the Not to Exceed promise, and my only choices were to sign the paper agreeing to pay the inflated price of $5250 or they would unload all my things from the truck back into the house. I argued about the legality of a binding price, but he said since it was so late at night, he couldn't do anything about getting it approved with the owner - either I had to sign the agreement for $5250 or they would unload my things. I signed under duress. Eric told me to call the owner when I got to California and straighten it out.

I called the owner (I think his name was Vili) once I had found a place to deliver my things. Vili was very rude about the price and would not honor the Not To Exceed Agreement. I called Paul and he told me he would talk to Vili but Paul didn't call back. I finally called again since the driver of the truck was calling me repeatedly asking for an address, but Paul would no longer answer my calls.

Vili insisted I either pay him $2500, which was the remainder of the $5250 price, or he would unload my things into a storage unit until I did pay him, and then I would owe the storage cost plus a second moving cost, or if I never paid any of it then I would just lose all my stuff.

Obviously I had no choice and ended up releasing the funds to him on my credit card.

I WOULD NEVER EVER EVER USE THIS COMPANY AGAIN. I was unable to sue them in small claims court for the difference between the $3500 estimate with a Not To Exceed Agreement, and the Final Cost of $5250 because I would've had to file in NY and attend court there, and I couldn't afford to fly back to represent myself or hire a lawyer on my behalf.

DO NOT USE THIS COMPANY.

Please contact me for scanned copies of the paperwork to prove my story.